Growing Pains
by metamo
Summary: Neverland is growing up, how could this effect Peter Pan?  Heavily based on 'my' Neverland which I have already written about, it's a lot darker than the books and films


**AN:A short oneshot based off of my Neverland, it's set after the last Neverland based story I wrote on here, but I'm not gonna force you to go read it! After a bit of thinking when I fifnished 'Believe' I decided I definitely want to write more about this world, including another multi-chapter thing which will be a sequel to believe, but I reckon it'll also make sense alone! anyhoo..enough rambling! Enjoyyy!  
**

Neverland was growing up. It wasn't obvious at first, the changes were small, days became slightly shorter, and nights slightly longer, the way time passed became slightly more natural by the day, yet no one in Neverland grew a day older. There were whispers and rumours circulating throughout the small port town, all about _her_. Not much was known about _her_ most people didn't even know her name and the ones who did, wouldn't say it, especially not when the Captain was about. They had watched in shock through their windows as she stumbled through their port town, only children had come to the island for the longest of times before _she _arrived.

No one knew much about her, it seemed she stayed locked away, never leaving the Captain's side, Perhaps it was for her safety, but of course when the Captain is involved, anything is a possibility. Whatever was happening to Neverland was because of _her. _Ever since she had left, more people had found their way to Neverland, they'd wash up on the beach and they'd eventually make their way into port. Peter Pan watched this oddity, his dead eyes seemingly full of revulsion, he did not understand why his island was changing.

A leaf fell from a tree, Peter Pan bent down to examine it; Brown and dead, this could mean only one thing. Seasons were coming back to Neverland. Gradually days became shorter and nights became longer, the green of the trees turned to brilliant shades of red, orange and gold and there was a distinctly cold edge to the air. The everlasting summer was finally over. Those who still remembered what seasons were like celebrated, they hung candles around their small port town, They shared the food they had and danced over the cobbled streets. The ones that did not remember were confused at first, having learnt that a change in weather was always because of Peter Pan, it wasn't until Grace, the voodoo queen announced that everything was safe that they joined the celebrations.

Peter Pan spied on these celebrations, filled with anger and confusion, he just did not understand any of it. Why were they happy? Grown ups were not allowed to be happy on his island. At least Hook was still miserable, his volatile temperature having returned to it's full power. It had been a shock for Peter when he had seen Hook alive, staggering through port, making his way to Grace, He was sure that he'd killed Hook during their battle. Peter Pan had spent the following days looking for the girl, but she was nowhere to be seen, it was as if she had disappeared completely.

The evening was dark, Peter Pan sat in a tree top, looking into the distance. There was a bandage around his left forearm which he was clutching to his chest, trying to protect it from more damage. If only he could get to Grace. The port was all lit up with candles, Peter did not want to be seen, he let out a groan of frustration and punched the trunk of the tree he was sitting in. The skin came away from his hand easily, too easily, exposing the decaying flesh below. The horrid crack that came with the punch meat that he had broken his fingers. He had to see Grace and he had to see her soon. Peter tried to fly to her, but, he could not find his happy thought. He climbed awkwardly down the tree then proceeded to walk even more awkwardly towards port and Grace's shack. As he walked, Peter Pan's bones creaked and clicked unnaturally, he had not realised what a horrifying sound it was until that moment, it made his dead skin crawl. Occasionally he'd catch a branch of a tree and each time he did more skin tore away, but not a drop of blood was spilt, for he had no blood left to spill, it had dried up long ago.

He could feel the stares as he made his way through port, they made him uncomfortable. Peter Pan had never had a reason to be scared before this night, he had never been afraid of the dark or monsters under his bed like other children, he never even feared his own mortality like most adults, that was until that night, after all Peter Pan was already dead, he never thought he'd be able to die again. The people of the port town detested Peter Pan, if they knew of the predicament he was in they would certainly try to kill him, he had to act natural.

Grace knew that Peter was coming to see her, she always knew these things, she was waiting at the door when Peter arrived, she looked at him sympathetically.

"Oh Peter" She sighed "What have you done?"

Peter Pan remained silent. Grace bent down to look at the bandage on his arm and ushered Peter Pan into her shack, he sat on the floor and Grace knelt beside him. Slowly and gently, Grace unwrapped the bandage from around his arm, shaking her head at what she saw was beneath it. Peter Pan's arm looked well and truly dead, as if the slightest knock would remove it completely. Grace knew this was a sign of Peter's hold of Neverland breaking, he could no longer stop himself from decaying, he'd never know that it was he that stopped this natural process, he had always assumed that he'd go on forever and ever in his resurrected state.

"What is happening to me?" He asked Grace

"I don't know, darling" She lied

"So, you can't fix it?"

Grace shook her head sadly, this too was a lie, Grace could have fixed Peter Pan, she knew what to do, she had the power, but, she didn't. Grace knew that Neverland was quickly growing out of Peter just as children outgrow toys. Neverland no longer needed Peter Pan, to save him again could cause terrible things to happen once more.

Peter pan was decaying at an alarming rate, he began to feel ill and started to cry, Grace tried to hush him and she took him in her arms and sat him on her lap much like she did when Peter first found his way to Neverland, before he had _changed. _For a moment, his sobs stopped, but only because Peter Pan suddenly found himself retching, a strange sort of liquid came from his mouth, it smelled bad and burnt his throat. Grace put her dark hand to Peter's chest, feeling for a heartbeat, it was there, but it was so slow.

"Close your eyes, Peter" She said softly "It will all be over soon"

"I'll feel better?" Peter asked weakly

"You'll feel better"

"Do you promise?"

"I promise" Grace said

Peter closed his eyes, and fell into a deep sleep, Grace made sure that he slept, she kept a hand on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat, it got progressively slower and weaker. It seemed odd to Grace that her last night with Peter Pan had to be so much like her first. When she had first found Peter, he had been weak, she wasn't sure if he'd make it, she had spent the entire night feeling for his heartbeat, feeling it get stronger and more pronounced until she was certain that he'd live. If there was a God watching over Neverland, he certainly had a cruel sense of humour!

A Tear ran down Grace's cheek, Peter Pan may have become a monster, something unnatural to be feared, but, he was still just a child, a child that Grace loved as her own. Grace had always wanted children, but, despite her efforts in the past, she had never been able to fall pregnant, so when Peter arrived and looked up to her almost as a mother, she was ecstatic. Had it not been for the jealous fairy, Tinkerbell, Peter would have still looked to her as his mother. Tinkerbell had poisoned his mind with lies about Grace and growing up, Tinkerbell wanted him to belong only to her (as she was his fairy after all)

Peter Pan's heart beat was now little more than a flutter, he was dreaming, Grace knew this because he was smiling as he slept, he was dreaming of something that made him happy. Grace pondered on this briefly, was he dreaming of the day he had kicked Hook to the crocodile? She didn't know. She though briefly of Hook too, what was to become of him? He had dedicated himself almost completely to his hatred of Peter, Grace feared that without an enemy, Hook would have nothing left to live for.

Peter groaned in his sleep, his mouth opened slightly

"Wendy" He muttered and then his heart stopped completely, for the second time in his existence, Peter Pan had died. Grace did not want to let go of him, she held his lifeless body to her chest for an hour before carrying him to a secluded space deep in the forest. Grace got on her knees and used her hands to dig the moist soil until it was just deep enough to fit Peter's body. She laid him in the hole gently, arranging his limbs in what she thought would be a comfortable position before scooping the soil back into the shallow grave.

It felt wrong to mark the grave with a wooden cross as such graves usually were marked with, so Grace reached into a pocked of her dress and pulled out a seed, a seed not from Neverland, from this seed a rose bush would grow. Grace planted the seed in the soil that made the surface of Peter Pan's grave and slowly made her way back to her shack. It was still dark, but morning had come, the first morning for Neverland in what felt like forever without Peter Pan.


End file.
